


Blackout

by fencer_x



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 14:52:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13437156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: It's the peak of summer, and there's a blackout. Only one thing to do when it gets too hot...





	Blackout

Ritsu hissed in pain, jerking his finger back and shaking it violently before stuffing the tip in his mouth and sucking forlornly, glaring at the dimly flickering candle as if this whole situation were its fault and not likely due to some overtaxed breaker struggling to keep electricity flowing freely to the dozens of apartments in his neighborhood.

In the wastebasket next to his refrigerator was a crumpled up paper warning residents to be judicious in running their fans and air conditioning units, that liberal use could result in blown fuses in the transformers feeding the area, and that residents should do their best to reduce their power usage whenever possible—the same paper circulated every year, it seemed.

But Ritsu had grown up in relative luxury and didn't see the harm in propping the window open and letting a fan circulate the cool night air, curling up on his couch with a manuscript in hand as he went over the most recent changes to Mutou-sensei's latest chapter. After nearly a year, he felt like he'd finally started to really get a _feel_ for this job, that innate sense that Takano-san often spoke of—where an editor and a mangaka just _clicked_ and he knew when she'd over-extended herself or when she needed to put more effort into a scene to up the emotional impact. Who knew that you could find such pleasure in a job that revolved around properly showcasing a heroine's "badump" scene?

He'd uncapped his pen, teeth holding the cap in place while he penned a note to the author in the wide margins near a side panel, when the lights throughout his apartment flickered ominously, followed by a loud _crack_ and then complete darkness.

That it was nearly a full moon was the only silver lining on the situation, and Ritsu quickly and carefully set aside his pen and half-checked manuscript to shuffle about in the darkness, realizing that his apartment was somehow quite a bit messier in the dark than in the light. He banged his knees on every piece of furniture he owned before finally groping his way to the kitchen, struggling to remember where he'd stored the few small aromatherapy candles he'd received from one of the newer office clerks back before the new year's break.

Three failed attempts to strike a match and one mildly burned finger later, and he'd managed to brighten his tiny corner of the couch enough to chance ruining his eyes in the dim light trying to finish editing his manuscript. "Good thing I don't have a tight schedule to keep or anything," he grumbled to himself, already envisioning the dressing down he was going to get in the morning when Takano-san caught him furiously scribbling half-assed notes in the margins, racing to fax off the changes to Mutou-sensei to keep under their deadline.

Oh—right. Takano-san. He was in this same situation right now…

Ritsu glanced over his shoulder at the wall to his back, envisioning Takano-san reclined on his own couch, long legs stretched out before him and sharp glasses perched on his nose as he frowned and struck out some panel Ichinose-sensei had probably spent hours drafting, with "BORING" written in big, bold letters over it. Shaking his head and smiling at the image, he snorted a small chuckle to himself. The man was a horror to work for, but watching him do what he did best was admittedly attractive in some sense.

Sighing loudly and trying to get comfortable on the couch, angling his body to capture the flickering candlelight, he tried to turn his attentions to finishing his check. Even if he couldn't fax it off tonight, he could at least have it finished and ready to go first thing in the morning. As it was, Mutou-sensei was stuck with nothing to do until Ritsu returned his edits to her, and a failure to return things on time was sure to reflect poorly on both himself and the Emerald editing department as a whole, with Takano-san bearing the responsibility should a draft fall through.

But Takano-san hadn't let a deadline slip by before, and Ritsu wasn't about to be responsible for the first black mark on his pristine record, so out came the red pen.

He'd managed one and a half more pages—with great effort—when the knock came at his door, followed by a muffled, " _Delivery_!" announcement, and Ritsu frowned, checking his watch. It was nearly ten at night, well past the normal hours delivery drivers kept when making their rounds, and he didn't recall ordering anything… But he rose to his feet anyways, carrying a candle with him towards the genkan while shielding the flame with his hand. He tried to check the peephole—futile, it was pitch black all around—and gently set the candle on the small table by the door, unlatching the door and opening it to receive his visitor.

"Ta— _Takano-san?!_ " In the instant he recognized his neighbor, he scrambled to grab the door handle and pull it back shut—but Takano-san braced a hand against the door and yanked it open, nearly pulling Ritsu toppling into him. "What are— _hey_!"

"Don't just slam the door in someone's face," the man chided calmly, glaring down at Ritsu through his glasses. "It's rude—don't you have any manners?" Ritsu just tried his best to glare back, but was aware he probably came off more like a petulant child, which was what he felt like when Takano-san teased him like this. The guy knew he'd been raised in greater luxury than probably all of the editing department combined; he knew damn well why Ritsu reacted like this whenever he tried to come barging in.

Ritsu shifted to place himself squarely in the genkan, trying to bodily block Takano-san's entrance. "You're not a delivery man."

"No?"

Raking a quick glance over him, Ritsu crossed his arms. "You don't seem to have a package for me."

Takano-san leaned forward, lounging against the door frame and pressing a hair further into Ritsu's apartment. "I don't?" And at this, Ritsu huffed his annoyance and reached for the handle again, fully prepared to crush the bits of Takano-san that stuck around inside the entrance when he slammed it shut. "Oi—wait."

" _What_?" he groaned with as much annoyance as he would allow himself to unleash on a superior. Regardless of how much harassment he endured under Takano-san, their work relationship remained unchanged, and he couldn't very well go mouthing off to his boss. Even if that boss deserved a piece of his mind. "I'm busy," he clarified.

"Doing what?"

Was he just looking for a conversation partner? "Draft check for Mutou-sensei."

"In the dark?"

"I have candles…"

Takano-san's gaze shifted over Ritsu's head, as if verifying by the soft flickering glow emanating from the living room that Ritsu did indeed have such things. "Lend me some."

" _What_?" He blinked a few times in concern. "Don't you have any of your own?" Takano-san just shrugged, and Ritsu felt a bit superior, chest swelling with glee at being able to shut the man down. "Well that's certainly a problem! Unfortunately I only have a few myself and need them to have enough light to finish my check. Apologies, Takano-san, but you'll have to just turn in early it seems. Good night~" And with this he started to put real force into pulling the door shut, prompting Takano-san to tighten his grip between the doorjamb and its edge. "Oi—let go, I told you I don't have any extra—"

Takano-san fanned himself with the packet of papers held together with a clip. "Then let me in so I can share the light."

Ritsu relaxed his grip, but only because it was blatantly obvious it was a losing battle; he'd just have to get Takano-san to leave on his own (and his stomach shifted with the unfortunate reminder of all _zero_ times such a tactic had worked in the past). "It's hardly enough light to see by—you'll just get in the way."

"You're not the only one working under a deadline, you know!" was the snapped reply, laced with more annoyance than Ritsu usually enjoyed from Takano-san in private, and he flinched at the unusually harsh words. His confusion must have shown in his features, for Takano-san seemed to realize he'd been quite short, a flash of panic washing over him. He quickly rubbed a hand over his face, wiping at his eyes sleepily, and waved him off. "Never mind, get back to work." He punctuated the command by removing himself from the doorway, turning on his heel and reaching for his own handle.

"—wait!" The words were out of Ritsu's mouth before he could help himself, and he very nearly bit off his tongue once he realized its betrayal. The damned thing had the worst habit of getting him into uncomfortable situations with Takano-san, and tonight seemed no exception. Takano-san seemed of the same opinion, eyeing him warily with one raised brow, waiting to see if Ritsu had regained control of his faculties. Shoulders slumping in defeat, Ritsu held the door open. "There's seriously not a lot of light."

Graciously not calling Ritsu on his sudden change of heart, Takano-san bopped Ritsu on the head with his sheaf of papers as he passed by and smoothly slipped inside, snatching up the candle by the door as he sauntered his way towards the living room like he owned the place. Ritsu watched him go with a mental sigh, pursing his lips in disapproval, and dutifully shut the door behind them.

By the time he finished relocking the door and made his own way into the living room, Takano-san had already flopped down on the couch, taking up as much space as was humanly possible. The heat of the evening, compounded by the lack of air conditioning or even the grace of a night breeze, had them both stripped down to only what was necessary to keep decent—Takano-san in a wifebeater and sweatpants rolled up to his knees and Ritsu in a light t-shirt and long sleep-shorts; he wished desperately he'd bothered to keep on the sweatshirt he'd been wearing earlier, loathe to turn down the air conditioner yet not looking to catch a chill—but that had been shed within minutes of the blackout starting and now he was left here with little between him and Takano-san except a few layers of sweat-soaked clothing and a single couch cushion. _Perfect._

As he stepped closer, aiming for a spot at the far side of the sofa, he realized Takano-san was holding not the manuscript he'd brought over but rather Ritsu's own half-finished check, and he opened his mouth to protest the move before stopping himself. He was well past the point where it was expected that he get the head editor to sign off on any edits he did, and even more so past the point where it was even appropriate to _ask_ for such approval; yet Takano-san was taking time from doing his own work to review Ritsu's, when it wasn't even his place any more. He should appreciate the thought and be grateful for any advice he received; Takano-san was giving him a freebie.

After a moment's silent perusal with no indication one way or the other as to whether Ritsu had just ruined Mutou-sensei's hard work or not, Ritsu cleared his throat. "We-well?"

Takano-san _hmm_ ed ambivalently and flipped the pages back to their original order, tossing the sheaf onto the coffee table. "It's only half-finished."

Ritsu's frown deepened as it was wont to whenever he was around Takano-san for longer than was necessary. "I told you I was in the middle of work; I'd be almost finished if it weren't for the blackout." Takano-san ignored his excuses, though, and turned his attentions back to his own work; Ritsu took his silence as approval, not caring enough to press the man for further clarification on the high and low points of his edits.

He snatched up his papers from the other side of the table, taking the long way around to the other side of the couch, watching Takano-san from the corner of his eye, wary like a prey animal under a hunter's gaze. He realized he felt like that pretty much _any_ time there was a lull in a conversation between them, because invariably Takano-san's mind wandered whenever not immediately occupied with work, and with his mind so wandered his eyes and fingers, and that was always about when Ritsu found himself on his back (or against a wall, or on his knees, or there was that one time in the car...) in situations he (nearly always) protested vociferously but never violently.

He flushed with memories of all their encounters— _far far_ more than were appropriate for two people not in any sort of relationship; how had they _managed_ that? It was only—Takano-san was so _pushy_ , always bringing up a past Ritsu just wanted to forget and move on from, forcing him to reconsider feelings he'd thrown away years ago, and even when he'd admitted to himself that his feelings for Takano-san were not so very far removed from Takano-san's own for himself, he'd done his level best to ball up those emotions and hide them away to deal with at some other point in time. Takano-san could have his body, but he wouldn't so easily give up his heart—wouldn't so easily give up _the fact that Takano-san already had won it_. Again.

A loud sigh, and Ritsu jerked in surprise, drawing himself into a ball and shrinking away embarrassingly from Takano-san. "Wh-what?"

Takano-san squinted through his glasses at the pages before him. "...It's too dark to see."

Ritsu nearly popped a vein, struggling to maintain a calm demeanor. "Yes, I believe I _mentioned that_."

"And it's hot..." He tossed the papers onto the coffee table, not seeming to care when they spread out, a few sheets slipping to the floor, forgotten. Ritsu watched the pages fall with mild concern; Takano-san wasn't usually so careless, especially not with Ichinose-sensei's work; maybe it was for another author? "My hands are getting covered in graphite from sweating all over the pages and sweat keeps dripping in my eyes..." He was _whining_ ; things really were bad when even Takano-san let a few cracks show in his cool exterior—or perhaps it was just because he was here in Ritsu's tiny apartment, on his equally tiny couch, and what did it matter if the guy he was sleeping with (no no, _occasionally slept with_ ; "sleeping with" implied some sort of routine, and Ritsu refused to admit that they had a _routine_ ) saw him in a less-than-perfect state?

Ritsu tried to ignore his obvious plea for attention, turning his focus back on Mutou-sensei's papers (damn, his own hands were in just as poor a state as Takano-san professed his to be). "I can try to see if I've got another uchiwa if you'd like."

"Nah..." was the response, dripping with blatant disinterest, and Ritsu grit his teeth; he'd opened up his home to the guy, given him light to work by and a couch to sit on, had even offered to try and dig out another fan for him...and this was the thanks he got? "I'm thirsty."

Ritsu tossed his papers onto the coffee table, barely holding himself back from just tossing them into the air in a fit, and shoved himself up off the couch, stomping into the kitchen and not caring if the tenants below him complained to the manager. Filling a mug with lukewarm water from the tap—and frowning when he realized he was thirsty as well, which prompted him to fill one of his own and thereby look like Takano-san had had a _point_ —he grumbled to himself a few savory insults and obligingly handed Takano-san his mug, suppressing a flinch when the man purposefully brushed their fingers together as he took it.

He raised the mug to his lips and tilted it back, but didn't swallow, eyes unwaveringly focused on Takano-san as the man swallowed with great gulps, Adam's apple bobbing up and down and head tilted back to capture the last of the contents in a single swig. Ritsu's gaze slipped down now to the broad expanse of chest exposed by the tank top, stretched tight and clinging in places with sweat, beads coming together and trickling down in the dead air of Ritsu's apartment. It was a sauna without a breeze, too hot to do work, too hot to think, too hot to do _anything_ but just accept that they were going to be hot and try to ride it out.

The candles were burning low now, and while he'd shed his watch much earlier, Ritsu knew it had to be past midnight by now. They were neither of them getting any work done and would just have to hunker down and put their noses to the grindstone in the morning. His head throbbed, probably not a good sign when it was this hot, and the pain distracted him from thoughts like _Takano-san should go back to his apartment_ and instead drew his focus, pinpoint sharp, to the way Takano-san's hair clung in damp strands to his temples, glasses slipping down his nose with the sweat and giving full, unadulterated view of his dark eyes, hooded in the fading candlelight.

Takano-san held his mug out expectantly. "More?" Ritsu swallowed and stepped forward, his own untouched mug held out to exchange as he gripped Takano-san's mug by the lip. Free of its burden, Takano-san reached his free hand out and gripped Ritsu by the wrist—not painfully tight, but not leaving him any way to free himself easily—while relieving him of the full mug and setting it on the coffee table. Ritsu watched this all happen blankly, as if from far away, and felt the last of his fight evaporate into the night, sizzling his defeat like the fading embers on the candlewicks before them.

Takano-san adjusted his grip, slipping it around to rub little hypnotic circles at the pulse point, guiding Ritsu even closer. "...You're agreeable tonight."

Ritsu frowned, feeling the dying flame of his fight trying to sputter back to life, reminding him that he wasn't supposed to make it _this easy_ for Takano-san. Ritsu reminded it back that: "It's too hot to argue with you."

The corners of Takano-san's lips quirked up as he tried to suppress his amusement, reaching up now with his free hand to take Ritsu's other wrist, guiding him forward even more until he was forced to straddle on the couch or risk toppling onto Takano-san altogether. "You're easier to seduce without air-conditioning... I'll have to remember that."

"I am _n_ —" But the words died a swift death in his throat when Takano-san pressed his mouth to Ritsu's shirt, just over a nipple, and started laving his tongue against it, soaking it through and making Ritsu shiver— _shiver_ , when it was hot enough to fry an egg—with pleasure at the sensation of rough, wet fabric brushing over his chest. "—can't believe you still have the energy for this kind of thing..."

Takano-san laughed into the fabric, freeing Ritsu's wrists and sliding his hands underneath the shirt and pushing it up to reach the naked skin beneath, resuming his attentions to Ritsu's nipple with a flick of his tongue followed swiftly by sweet suction. "I've always got energy to do this with you." Ritsu was glad the flush to his skin could be written off as due to the heat; how did Takano-san _stand_ saying embarrassing things like that all the time? "Take off your shirt."

Ritsu balked, frowning down at Takano-san; the casual way he ordered Ritsu about at times like that _grated_ so. Not that Ritsu would've responded any differently regardless of how he was asked—Takano-san could beg and plead and still be met with the same distaste—but if he wanted to _seduce_ Ritsu so badly, he wasn't going about it very smartly. Then again, after ten or so months ( _god_ had it been that long? How had the longest relationship of his life been with a man who got his kicks teasing Ritsu?) maybe he'd lost the taste for the _gentle_ route and decided quick and to the point was how to get the most out of their encounters. Whatever the reason, Ritsu still obliged, pulling his shirt up over his head—grateful to expose his bare skin and cool off a bit more, even if it wasn't exactly for reasons he was looking forward to—and tossed it to the side. Takano-san had shed his own as well and now had both hands at Ritsu's back, pulling him down to sit in his lap so that their faces were level.

He had a look on his face, a half-smirk that pissed off the bit of Ritsu that had to watch in silence while he let himself go this easily. Just because he was too hot and tired to fight off Takano-san's advances tonight didn't mean he had to actually enjoy them (even though sometimes...sometimes he _wanted_ to, wanted it to be all right to reciprocate, just a little); Takano-san didn't seem to have the same issues, though. "You don't have to look so smug about it," he grumbled, tilting his head just to the side so that they didn't smash noses when Takano-san inevitably leaned forward to press their lips together.

"Not smug. Just happy," he responded simply, and Ritsu caught a vague flash of a smile that crinkled up and reached his eyes, bright and genuine and beautiful, but it was gone, out of reach, when Takano-san ducked forward and covered Ritsu's lips with a desperate kiss suited more for the bedroom and less for the foreplay arena. He grunted his protests, but Takano-san forced his mouth open and began stroking his tongue against Ritsu's, shifting his weight to push Ritsu down onto the couch without separating. Ritsu braced himself as best he could, hands groping about for purchase and finding only Takano-san's bare chest, slick with sweat from the heat and their activities—his fingers brushed a nipple, unwittingly, and Takano-san gasped into his mouth (so he did it again, because sometimes the guy needed to know how _annoying_ it was to be undone by someone you didn't want to show weakness to).

Ritsu could feel Takano-san's cock, already hard and heavy, brushing against his inner thigh through two layers of pants. He didn't seem keen to do anything about it just yet—which was fine with Ritsu; maybe he'd wear himself out and faint from heat stroke before he managed to lube up and roll on the condom he'd probably stuffed in his pants _knowing_ this was where things would lead if he got Ritsu to let him inside. Asshole.

He was too busy thinking about Takano-san's cock and all the places he didn't feel like having it right now to notice Takano-san's free hand slip down and stroke two fingers across his stomach, lightly teasing, before reaching down to grip Ritsu lightly through the fabric of his shorts, and he spasmed in surprise. "Takano—san, that's—" He tried crossing his legs, but Takano-san had him straddled now and he couldn't quite get the leverage, instead finding himself quite at the man's mercy. It wasn't that it felt _bad_ , or that he didn't want to find release eventually— _eventually_ —but whenever Takano-san touched him, stroked him, jerked him, it invariably led to all sorts of bad decisions on Ritsu's part, like thrusting up into Takano-san's hand and making him think he _enjoyed_ it (it was just a physical reaction, really!) or feeling obligated to reciprocate and trying to bring Takano-san off himself (keyword being _trying_ ; he rarely had time to complete the act before Takano-san found easier routes to his climax).

Takano-san pressed a line of kisses away from his mouth and down his jawline, licking at the sheen of sweat just below his chin. "I didn't get that refill... I'm still kinda thirsty..."

Ritsu wanted to whine with frustration. "You don't—have to announce everything you're going to do, you know."

"More fun that way, though." He punctuated the declaration with another firm stroke, drawing out Ritsu's arousal in full now.

"For _you_ ," Ritsu snapped through grit teeth, letting his head fall back against the cushions.

Takano-san pulled back, frowning and looking genuinely put out. "You're not making this easy."

Ritsu wanted to laugh, but each breath he took was saturated with warm, thick air that was no pleasure to take in, and the combination of his own body heat and Takano-san's above and around him was just making the experience more miserable than usual. "You're surprised?"

"I suppose not," Takano-san admitted after a moment, breathing in deep against Ritsu's skin just where his neck and shoulder met and drawing a cool breeze across the skin surface, absolutely heavenly. "You're worth the challenge..." And his voice was deep and rough with desire and not the usual teasing drawl, so much so that Ritsu half-believed him and flushed with pride before remembering his place.

Takano-san loved spouting those sorts of smooth lines— _I want to know your everything_ and _I was never able to forget you_ and _Ritsu_ and _I love you_ —and Ritsu _hated_ responding to them, though he inevitably always _did_ , because what else could you do when the person you'd spent half your life loving from afar told you _over and over_ that they loved you back? Was it any wonder Ritsu had stopped really _fighting_ , really kicking and screaming long ago? Was it any wonder that he put up this prickly front even now just to keep up appearances (and a bit out of spite, really, because the man could be an _unbelievable_ asshole) because at least he still had his pride and damned if he was going to give that up until the bitter end? Was it any wonder he still kept at it, when they both knew the truth full well?

Groaning against his chest where he was laving his tongue around a nipple, Takano-san grunted out, "God, you're right; it's too hot to fuck..." and if Ritsu thought this meant he'd been granted a pass, he was wrong, for Takano-san just slipped down the length of his body and jerked Ritsu's pants down just far enough to free his half-hard cock and finish stroking it to erection. "But it's never too hot to give head—bear with me." And he set straight to work with the same ruthless efficiency he approached one of Ichinose-sensei's manuscripts.

Ritsu bit his lip, arching up from the couch and trying not to obviously spread his legs even wider so that Takano-san could bob down even further, breath through his nose sweeping across the sensitive skin around his shaft on every downstroke and threatening to very well pull Ritsu out of his body on the up, licking and laving and sucking _just so_ at the tip. Over the months, Ritsu had learned that Takano-san _really_ liked to suck cock—or perhaps it was just Ritsu's. Whatever the reason, he seemed to enjoy it (or rather, the reactions it drew from Ritsu) and Ritsu had long since given up trying not to enjoy at least this part of their encounters.

Through half-lidded eyes, he saw that Takano-san had shimmied partly out of his sweatpants, taking himself in hand and stroking in time with his attentions to Ritsu's cock, and it was quite possibly one of the hottest things Ritsu had ever seen. It was hard to pay attention when they fucked—he didn't want to get carried away seeing Takano-san's face while they were joined like this, but now he felt almost voyeuristic, half-forgetting his own pleasure with the expressions etched on Takano-san's face and the noises springing from his lips, tight and firm around Ritsu. He stretched a hand out, shaking, and brushed a few hairs from Takano-san's face where they fell across his eyes, keeping his hand where it lay and not protesting when Takano-san entwined their fingers together (even if it meant one less talented hand working him to orgasm).

He could feel his climax building behind his balls, deep and coiling and teasingly waxing and waning with each thrust of Takano-san's mouth down his shaft. His hand was flying furiously over his own cock, no longer keeping time with his attentions to Ritsu, and with the way his hips were pistoning forward and back in concert with his strokes, it was quite clear Takano-san wasn't going to last much longer either. For a brief moment, Ritsu considered _it'd be nice to come together..._ before he tossed the thought and decided to just put conscious effort into getting himself off as quickly as possible, leaving Takano to finish himself up at his own pace.

He stared down unabashedly at Takano-san's hand on his own cock, working himself feverishly, and remembered those hips slamming him into every available surface between the both of their apartments, tight and harsh and a constant reminder of the desperation of their joinings, the thin thread by which hung any hope of a relationship eventually working out between them, something more than quick encounters here and there, something with conversations (that didn't revolve around work) and smiles (that weren't forced) and genuine laughter (that wasn't a derisive snort or at one another's expense) and _love_ (that wasn't only spoken of in _maybe_ s and _used to_ s or drowned out by rain or muttered with shame to rivals). He wanted _all of that_ , with Takano-san and no one else, so why couldn't he _ask for it_?

" _Ritsu_..." Takano-san whined, voice cracking with effort and emotion, and he pressed a kiss to the center of Ritsu's chest, hair brushing against Ritsu's belly and sending a shiver through him that echoed down to his cock and sent him spurting over Takano-san's hand still stroking him. Takano-san opened his mouth to say something else, but all that came out was a groan through grit teeth as he leaned into Ritsu, trying not to fall onto him entirely, and let his hips jerk forward with a few final sharp snaps as his orgasm rippled over him. They lay there in silence, still sweltering from the heat, with no words between them but the sound of their harried breathing, lethargy draping over their bodies and lulling them to sleep.

Takano-san found his strength first, lifting himself up off Ritsu and pressing a slow, languid kiss to Ritsu's lips that he refused to release for what felt like ages. By the time he pulled back, Ritsu's breathing had returned to normal (though the kiss had set his pulse to racing again before Takano-san gave in) and he lay, boneless, underneath the man, mired in confusion. Why did he always feel so _strange_ after this sort of thing? Affectionate, like he wanted to just curl up against Takano-san and forget having to be offended or horrified at what they'd done at least until the morning.

He felt the couch shift beneath him as Takano-san moved to roll off of him and snapped a hand out, grabbing him by the wrist. They both froze, staring at the offending appendage, each waiting for the other to explain what it was all about, and when no such admission came, Takano-san eventually tugged his wrist free enough to twist it around and grab Ritsu's hand in his own, twining their fingers together and squeezing softly before Ritsu could pull it back again. "Why're you so good to me?"

And Ritsu wanted to ask a thousand questions— _how is this being good to you? why should I feel obligated to be_ good _to you? why do you try so hard if this is all I can give in return? I don't know, why_ am _I so good to you?_ —but all that eventually came out was, "Because you love me." And it wasn't a total lie—just as _Because I love you_ wasn't the total truth.


End file.
